I've Seen You Sleeping
by Upon Your Face
Summary: "They say that if you stand in front of a mirror and chant his name three times, he'll come out..." A small game of truth or dare leads Harry into the bloodied arms of a reflection. Harry/Draco HPDM Rated for Gore. REVIEW!
1. Oh, Master Draco

Draco smiled dreamily into the mirror, running his pale fingers through is ever perfect blonde hair. He smirked, a small self satisfied giggle making it's way through the room. A low, smiling moan of arrogant appreciation slid from his throat as he admired himself.

"Oh, Draco..." He whispered silkily, running his finger down his reflection's perfect cheek. "How on Earth are you so beautiful? You look as if the Gods chose the finest marbles with which to craft your wonderous face."

"Draco, darling, why do you insist on constantly reminding yourself of your perfection? Surely by now you must know how 'beautiful' you are...?" His caretaker, Severus, said tiredly. He reached up and pulled a rough hand down his haggard face and knelt to lace the master's custom black scale boots. Draco merely shrugged.

"If you are by any means requesting I cease this ritual, you are in to be sorely disappointed. Certainly, one as beautiful as I must know each day that he is beautiful. I only wish to reassure myself of that, Severus, dear."

"Of course, Young Master, how in heaven's name could I think otherwise." He returned flatly. He worked his way upward in dressing the Young Lord, stopping at last to replace the pleaded stock that adorned the Master's neck into a dignified position. Draco, through the process, merely watched Severus' hands in the mirror, doing wonders to enhance the fine lines of his figure, adding emphasis to his paleness with the small dandied black plume shifting restlessly atop his small grey ornamented top-hat.

"Dear, that is enough. Too much and the people will never stop ogling," Draco smirked. "Now come, to the market. Father's due to arrive today at the Square at a quarter to noon. Mustn't be late, Sevvy."

The bleak, sallow man nodded, extending an arm to lead the Master to his Buggie. The sleak black automobile shrugged under the weight of the two as they slammed shut the doors.

"Foot to the floorboards, Sev. It's already thirty to twelve."

Severus nodded. "Yes, Young Master." he replied curtly, forehead creased with silent irritation.

The automobile sped off of the curb into the cobblestone roads leading to the bustling crowded Square. Severus knew they had atleast a ten minute trip, which was unlucky enough considering his master's impatience.

"Severus, speed this contraption up. I'll not have us late because of your poor driving."

Severus grit his teeth. "My driving would not be seen as poor if you'd cease your wicked complaints, oh Young Master. I'm quite tired of your insesant whining."

Draco reared back as if slapped, and turned a reddened cheek to his caretaker. "You dare to speak to me as if I were some common street rat?" I'll have you sent to Kinsley for a seventh whipping, you ungrateful filth."

Severus grit his teeth, his knuckles whitening as his fists clenched the steer harder than nessecary. "Young Master, I'll advise you to hold your tounge-

"I'll advise you to bite my arse!" the blonde bellowed, shoving his caretaker into the door. The steer jerked with the motion and sent the car flying into a mock hydroplane. Draco screached and clutched the door, seeing only seconds late before the car spun into the wall of a gun shop.

Severus watched the crash in slowed motion. The friction of the car skidding against the metal outlinings of the door elicited a small but effective spark, streaming through the air into, to Severus' undisclosed horror, the barrels of fire powder settled against the wall.

* * *

><p>Draco stared up at the hospital's rafters, a small bird tittering on the one closest to the window. Nurses talked quietly with his father outside, seemingly in whispered outrage. Draco slowly lifted a hand to his face, feeling- with a wince- the melted stretch of skin so near his now milky grey eye. He ran his fingers along the scar until he came to his hair, the left side's ends tinged with ash and black.<p>

"...is now a revolting freak! I'll have him in my home no more, you hear? No more!" His father voiced with rage, slamming into the room and glaring over at him. Draco stared into the molten silver that was his father's eyes and cringed.

"You are no longer my son. You disgrace the house of Malfoy with a face as sickening to look upon as yours. Never set foot on our floor again." He ground out, hand tense against his walking cane. Draco said nothing in his shock, staring down at the white sheets covering his waist as his father left the room with a terrible finality.

The days following were sick. Draco had been disallowed to look into any mirror. The nurses would have him shy away from the loos and washrooms, giving him, to his moritification, a pan in which to get his business done. The shame that followed was blinding, and he chose to not eat.

"Tell me I am beautiful..." He whispered as a nurse helped him out of his hospital robes. She winced, looking away from his scarred body as he dressed in clean linens.

"I cannot lie, Youn-... Draco. You are not the beauty that proceeded the accident. That boy is gone, along with that wicked charm you so effortlessly upheld." She whispered, holding her hands to her breast.

"Let me have my reflection. Show me this horror that others see." He almost cried.

"Again, I cannot." She replied, her face set with determination.

"Please..." He croaked, whipping around and clutching her arm. She gasped and struggled to get away from his hold but he tightened his grip, staring at her with crazed eyes, one scarred by burns.

"Get off!"

"Give me a mirror! GIVE ME MY FACE!" He bellowed, throwing her to the ground. He glared down at her, grabbing a ladle from the bed table she'd rolled into the room.

"Draco, Stop!" She screamed, blocking her face as he beat down on her.

"Show me! SHOW ME!" He cried, continuously whipping her with the ladle. A hoarde of nurses, followed by doctors, ran into the room, restraining the young boy until he quieted to sobs. He fell into a light slumber as he calmed.

* * *

><p>Draco opened his door carefully, looking down both ends of the hallway before slipping from his room and closing the door as noislessly as he could manage. He walked slowly down toward the canteen, knowing of the wall mirror settled above the wood burning stove in the kitchen. He sneaked past any and all interuptions as best he could, until finally reaching his increasingly longed for destination.<p>

He stared into his familiar, flawless gray eyes, alight with panic and slight insanity. The left of his face was marred by burns and scars, his perfect lips now far from symetrical. He screamed at himself, curling inward.

Half his face. Gone. His left hand and arm were unrecognizably darkened, a far cry from the paleness the right half seemed to exude. His limp was obvious to him now, watching himself scramble toward his once beautiful reflection.

"YOU FILTH!" He screamed, pounding his fists into the mirror. "YOU PATHETIC EXCUSE FOR A DRIVER!" The crack that had appeared slowly grew, until the mirror shattered, shards raining onto the blonde boy, covering him with bleeding wounds. He continued to scream and pound into what was left of the mirror.

"I want it back..." He breathed, tears streaked down his face. "I want my face. GIVE ME MY FUCKING FACE!"

The night guarde ran toward the screaming, bursting into the room, struck dumb at the blood-covered eye gazing at him from the cracks. He watched, fascinated, terrified, as a burned hand slipped into the mirror, the wide eye finally disappearing into the glass.

"...What?"


	2. Truth Or Dare?

**Late disclaimer: I have no catchy "If I owned Harry Potter..." Thing most author's tend to sneak into their stories. Just be positive that I most well and truly DON'T. Enjoy. REVIEW! (please, I'm THAT person that needs reassurance and such)**

Harry groaned as he rolled onto the hardwood floor, watching wearily as another dancer's feet came dangerously close to his head. He cringed, sitting up and huffing. Not a good day.

"Potter! Take a puff and get the hell back on the floor!" A terse Tonks, their dance instructor, whipped out. Harry didn't bother replying, sliding over to his bag and grabbing his enhaler, taking two long, drawn breaths of now fresh air. With that done he stood, shaking himself out and returning to his place in line. With no word he slid flawlessly into mid wheel, keeping up almost perfectly with the other dancers.

He watched his reflection with boredom, the large mirrors on the wall copying his every move. Some of the other dancers watched themselves with increasing facination, as if the entire routine depended on their moves.

"Okay, kiddlings. Enough with the bad, show me some good. Potter, give me Billie Jean!" Tonks grinned. She shooed all of the other kids, some red with embarrassment, others with anger, as only Harry remained. She threw him a black fedora, and he cringed.

"Must I?" He asked as the music started.

"Yes. More than life itself, twat. GO!"

For what it was worth, he felt immensley embarrassed about all of the crotch grabs and catcalls, but was having genuine fun. Of course, on the third queue he slid a bit, losing his hat, but kept going. He saw himself in the mirror and grinned, noticing immediately that he was nowhere near as amazing as the lord of crotch himself, MJ. He saw most of the others laughing, having a generally good time watching him stumble through the dance.

"Okay, Harry... That's enough." Tonks giggled, and Harry breathed a huge sigh of relief.

"Are you staying after for the lock in?" Seamus questioned, digging through his rucksack. Harry nodded.

"Yeah. Nothing else to really do, you know? Might as well terrorize you guys in your sleep."

"Dude, no molesting. I know I'm gorgeous, but I swing straight." Dean chuckled, and Harry fixed a heartwrenched expression onto his face.

"Oh, how will I ever survive? Why, oh why is this handsome man not an assclown? It would be oh so freaking conveniant. Atleast... for me." He added as an after thought. "Well, if not molestation, what exactly is there to do?"

Hermione perked up. "We could play games!"

Ron snorted. "Isn't that a smidge childish, 'Mione? I mean, I'm well and good for snakes and ladders, atleast as much as the next guy, but we're 16... Harry being the exception. Don't you think-

"Hey! My birthday's in a couple of days... It isn't my fault I was born later in the year..." Harry pouted, it being constantly pointed out that he was only 15, and in fact the youngest.

"Okay kiddies, WHATEVER you do, just stay in here, alright? I don't want to come back to one of you missing. I'll be set up in the Head's office, so come get me if there's an emergency." Tonks supplied with a smile, grabbing her bag. The 'kids' all nodded, eager to be left alone.

"Now, as I was saying. It doesn't have to be a kiddy game. I was thinking about truth or dare." Hermione grinned when Tonks had left. The others groaned, voicing their objections, but sat in a small circle anyway.

"Alright, since Harry's the youngest-" This earned him a slap- "He can go first. Okay, Harry?" Ron chuckled. Harry just grumbled.

"Alright... Dean. Truth or dare?"

And so went on the game. The dares took their turns in being childish, not very thought out, and downright vulgar. Twelve minutes into the game, Hermione was missing her shirt(lucky today was when she decided to wear a sports bra), Harry and Dean were both red from the kiss they had shared, Ron was upside down and... somehow purple, while Seamus looked a smidge too comfortable in his pink thong.

"Alright, time to get serious." Dean grinned wickedly. "Harry... truth or dare?"

Harry bit his lip. "...Dare."

"I dare you to call up Bloody Malfoy." He whispered.

There was silence, and Seamus and Ron gulped. Hermione rolled her eyes, and Harry just looked confused. "Who's Bloody Malfoy?"

Ron and Dean shared a look, while Hermione scoffed. "It's a stupid legend, Harry."

"They say..." Began Seamus in a somewhat spooky voice, "That Draco Malfoy was a beautiful man. He adored himself to the point of self obsession, and spent hours gazing at his reflection."

"But when he was 17," Ron grinned, "He was in a terrible car accident. It left his face scarred and disfigured."

Hermione rolled her eyes again. "They say he was, from then on, never allowed to look at himself in a mirror again. But, being determined, he snuck away from his hospitol bed one night and into the kitchens, where a wall mirror was kept."

Harry gulped, unsure why he was afraid. Dean laughed. "So when he saw himself for the first time, he went insane. He started screaming and trying to find his old reflection. His desperation was enough that he actually went INTO the mirror."

"Now he lives in the mirror, disfiguring anyone stupid enough to call upon him and interupt his search. He claws out the eyes of those who see his face. He's especially fond of beautiful people, though. If you're pretty enough, he'll try to steal your face."

...Harry looked around at his friends with wide eyes, unsure as to whether or not he should go through with it. If he didn't, he would be seen as a coward, but...

"How exactly do you call him up?" Harry asked shakily.

"You go into a bathroom with the lights off and stand in front of the mirror. You stare directly into your reflection and chant 'Bloody Malfoy' three times, and close your eyes. When you open them next, he'll be standing in the mirror."

Harry looked over to the door, unsure. The bathroom was right down the hall, and he'd only have to run in, do the dare, and run out. He let out a shaky breath, wiping his now clammy hands on his pants.

"Awe, is widdle Hawwy scawed? You don't have to go if you're afraid." Dean said as he pinched Harry's cheek, making the others laugh. Harry scowled and shoved away his hand, standing.

"Fine. I'll go. But fuck you guys if I get killed or something."

"Right." Ron said, clapping a hand on his best mate's shoulder. "We'll be right outside the bathroom."

Harry sighed and ran a hand down his face, turning and stalking out of the room. The remaining teens snickered and followed, stopping just outside the bathroom. Harry glared at them, but yanked the door open, went inside, and slammed it closed on Seamus' nose.

He payed no attention to the grunt of pain that followed.

Staring at the small bathroom mirror that hung over the sink, he slowly made his way to stand before it. His face looked chalk white, his green eyes quivering with supressed terror.

"Bloody Malfoy..."

The lights went out, and he jumped. It was probably Seamus, making sure he was doing it right. Gulping, he turned back to the mirror.

"Bloody Malfoy..."

His heart was racing in his chest now. He squeezed his eyes shut and wrung his hands together, sighing.

"Bloody Malfoy..."

* * *

><p>"Do you hear anything?"<p>

"SHH!" Dean quieted them, pressing his ear to the door once more.

"I don't think this'll work" Ron murmured.

"Yeah, it's just some urban legend."

"We should just-

The four teens froze, the terrified scream from the other side cutting Hermione off mid sentance.


	3. Bloody Malfoy

At first, Harry saw nothing. He closed his eyes for several seconds, and opened them to his own face. Reaching out a pale, slightly shaking hand, he ran his fingers along the mirror, but still saw nothing. Backing up a few steps, he puzzled over the mirror, and snorted after a few seconds.

"I'm just overreacting..." He murmured, turning and stalking accross the bathroom. He shivered at the sudden cold and wrapped his arms over his chest, blaming on the ari conditioner the studio would never fix. He shook his head and reached for the handle, expecting nothing more out of this little adventure.

"...Ha...rry..."

And he froze.

Turning ever so slowly back toward the mirror, he saw nothing, not even his own reflection. The mirror was misted, like it would be after a hot shower, and anything that would be visible in the glass was covered completely by condensation.

"What the hell...?" He whispered, frozen to the spot.

The surface of the mirror seemed different, no longer solid. The center of the glass rippled slightly, distorting the mist. Harry tightened the hold he had on himself and, against his wishes, took a curious step forward.

A slender, scarred hand slowly emerged from the mirror, seeping downward to clutch the basin. An arm and shoulder followed, both bloody, bare, and scarred. Slowly, achingly so, a head and torso started to emerge.

Harry couldn't find the strength to scream. He was frozen in horror, staring straight into wild blond hair as the body crawled downward out of the mirror.

"Harry..." It whispered again, standing. The head was still dipped, the arms dangling loosely by it's side. "You... called... for me?"

The head raised itself, and Harry stared into the most beautiful silver eyes he had ever seen. He took in the scars, the burns, the sick, twisted grin marring the demon's otherwise beautiful face...

**_"AAAAAUUUGGGGHHH!"_**

The scream was torn from his throat as the blonde came forward, and he slid to the floor. The bloody boy crouched and slapped a hand over his mouth, bending down until he was directly in the face of the raven haired boy.

"You're... very pretty, Harry. Do you want to be my new face?"

Harry's wide eyes stared up from underneath the boy's hand, and he shook his head violently, a sob tearing form his throat, though muffled as it was. Draco grinned, the action cause the skin around his lips to pull grotesquely, and leaned down, letting a cool, bloodied tongue wipe it's way up the side of a pale, once clean face. Harry screamed again.

Shouts were coming through from the other side of the door, bodies slamming into the wood threatening to give way. Draco hissed despite himself and curled atop Harry.

He tutted, his free hand ghosting along Harry's neck. His putrid breath ghosted along Harry's jaw, making him shiver.

"HARRY!" Dean called from outside. "ARE YOU ALRIGHT?"

Harry still peered up at the disfigured creature above him, shaking.

"Make no mistakes, love... We'll see eachother very soon."

Seamus and Dean both burst through the door at that moment, looking around frantically for their friend. Hermione flicked on the light, and their eyes were met with blood.

A trail made it's way form the still misting mirror, dragging across the floor to stop at a huddled firgure near their feet.

"Harry!" Ron cried, running forward. Harry slowly, shakily, curled himself into a ball. Rich, uneven sobs poured form his throat as his friends hurried over. Ron knelt, uncaring of the blood wetting his jeans, and pulled Harry into his lap.

"Harry... Harry, what happened?"

Harry's wide eyes stared up at Ron, before slowly crawling over to peer at the mirror. A single bloodied silver eye watched him, opal and sinister. A laugh seemed to bubble up into Harry's mind, and he couldn't help that it escaped his lips. His friends looked at him in shock and worry, calling his name. Harry turned onto the floor and vomited.

Just at that moment, Tonks came running into the loo to demand to know what all the noise was, but stopped short at the scene.

Bleary eyes took in a message scrawled across the floor.

_'I Will Be Beautiful...'_

**Alright, so nowhere near as long as the other chapters, but I saw this as a good place to stop. Plus, you lucky bastards, I;ve updated like a boss. PLEASE REVIEW. Seriously, I need reviews like Russia needs his pipe... Or like Harry needs his ferret o:**


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